New Avengers: Season 1
by Feral2K
Summary: Earth's Mightiest Heroes like you've never seen them before.


I do not own Captain America, Iron Man, or any other character owned by Marvel Comics

**Avengers**

**Assembled**

They had told him that it had been sixty years since he'd been frozen. Sixty years. Time enough for the rest of the Invaders to die off, old and forgotten. Time enough for even Baron Strucker and his lackey Blood to finally rot away in some hellhole far away from civilization. And more than time enough for new heroes and villains to rise up in their places.

Captain America was following two of those new villains now. Beetle and Goliath, their names were. He remembered most of the briefing he'd been given on them. Beetle, or Abner Jenkins, was a master of technology and entomology, and was encased in a state-of-the-art battle suit fashioned after some obscure insect. Goliath, whose name Cap hadn't bothered to file away in his memory, was a mutant with the ability to increase his size, and therefore his weight, mass and strength. Beetle was in charge of their operation, but (it had been speculated) answered to some higher power.

Cap didn't care whether or not Beetle had a leash. Learning that all of his friends were dead, that his family thought him long-dead on some battlefield in Germany, had severed something in him. He'd been someone before his government had drafted him, and had become something of a folk hero after he'd let them do their experiments on him, turning him into a super-soldier. But when Strucker had frozen him, people had forgotten him, until he became a footnote in the history books. Not anymore. With the capture of Beetle and Goliath, Captain America would again become a name to be spoken in hushed whispers, the quintessential hero, bane to the enemies of freedom and justice.

Cap chuckled to himself. _Listen to yourself. You're starting to sound like a propagandist._ Deep down, he knew that he wasn't doing this for the attention, or the fame. He was doing it because it was the only thing he could do in good conscience. Beings like him, with superpowers, were expected to either help the world or hinder it, and he couldn't bring himself to act against the country he'd worked so hard to protect all those years ago.

He rounded a corner and found himself staring at the backs of Beetle and Goliath. Beetle was sheathed in blue-black armor, and was directing his comrade towards a truck. Cap silently wondered how they expected Goliath, who looked to be no less than seven-and-a-half feet tall, to squeeze into the cab of the truck. Cap let them move around for a little longer, and then threw the shield he wore on his right arm.

His shield, a red, white and blue disc about the size of his chest, arced towards the back of Beetle's head. Right before it hit, however, Beetle whirled around and caught it neatly with his left hand. Cap's first thought was that of shock; his shield should have torn through armor and skin, leaving Beetle writhing in pain. Beetle noticed Cap's expression.

"Oh, please. Even if you _were_ Captain America, you'd have to realize that there have been significant leaps and bounds made in mobile armor since the war. I'm practically impervious. Now, run along to your costume party and leave the big dogs alone. Shoo."

This infuriated Captain America to the point that he leapt forward, arm cocked to punch straight through Beetle's helmet, And possibly his head as well. Before he got there, he slammed into a hand that was easily as big as he was. Stunned, he looked up to see Goliath kneeling by the stairway he and Beetle had been fighting on with his hand interposed between the two of them. He sneered at Cap.

"Can I take him, Beetle?"

"Get the stuff in the truck and _go_. I'll take care of this guy."

Goliath snorted, but went over to the truck, shrinking as he went. By the time he reached the truck, he was at what Cap assumed to be his normal height. He got into the truck and drove off. Or, he tried to.

Energy bursts rained down in front of and behind the truck. Goliath jumped out just in time to avoid one aimed for the cab. The source of the blasts became immediately apparent to all watching: an armor suit done in red and gold, shooting around on a trail of flame erupting from the boots. As it came down for another pass, a voice came from it, amplified by unseen speakers.

"Stand down, all of you. You are trespassing on Stark Industries property. Stand down and prepare to be questioned."

"Yeah right! Goliath, take the has-been! I've got the golden boy!"

With that, the bulbous lump on Beetle's back split open, revealing a very functional jetpack. It fired up, and Beetle rocketed up to confront the gold-armored intruder. Sensing that he would only get one chance at it, Cap dove for his shield before Goliath could smash both it and him. Catching it on the fly, he heaved it at Goliath, hearing a satisfying cracking sound as it ricocheted off of Goliath's expanding chin. Goliath roared, grabbing his injured chin as seeming buckets of blood splashed out of the expanding wound. Beetle noticed his comrade's state of distress.

"Another time, both of you. You can count on it!"

With that, Beetle pressed a button on his gauntlet, and both he and Goliath shimmered and dissolved. Cap cursed. This wasn't the first time someone had used a teleporter to escape him, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. It was then that he noticed the red-and-gold armor suit coming down to land next to him. When it landed, it took off its' helmet, revealing a startlingly good-looking man beneath it. He extended his hand in greeting.

"Iron Man, at your service. You must be . . . ?"

Cap looked at the hand for a second, and then shook it.

"Captain America. You must be Stark's bodyguard. I've heard a little about you. Know what they were after?"

"Not sure. It was actually very good luck, and the services of a great internal intelligence officer, that got me the time of the heist."

"Internal intelligence?"

"Former Soviet spy. She's great, really. She thinks that whoever was going to do this was part of a-"

"-Bigger picture, I know. That was the impression I got. Look, maybe you should have your 'internal intelligence officer' look into Beetle and Goliath, see if she can find anything that might link them to anyone else."

"Will do. Hey, keep in touch, will you? Here's a private frequency for my comm unit. Call it if you find anything out."

"Sure."

Cap took the piece of paper with the frequency on it, knowing that he wouldn't call it. He didn't need anyone's help. He was just fine on his own. Just the way he liked it.

Tony looked at Natasha. He'd just finished reading the report she'd given him on Beetle and Goliath, and he was feeling a little sick to his stomach. He recognized most of the names on the list. Fixer, a former employee of Stark Industries who had turned himself into a cyborg mercenary. Moonstone, who had broken the minds of every detective that had come after her. Her accomplice Screaming Mimi, a bruiser with untapped sonic abilities. Fenris, the international terrorist. And of course, Beetle and Goliath. He flicked through the pages without looking, and then looked up at Natasha again.

"Are you sure about this? I don't mean to question your ability, but with people like this . . . "

"I'm positive. All six of them have been active here in New York for the past six months. The only thing I haven't found out yet is who is pulling their strings. There seemed to be a complete lack of information on that topic."

Tony groaned slightly, and then looked down at the files again. Iron Man couldn't do this alone, not this time. Captain America had almost no chance on his own. Even if they teamed up, they were still outnumbered three to one. Unless . . .

"Natasha, get me contact information for any superheroes, or anyone with superpowers at all, in the area. I'll even take good shots and tech-users."

Natasha gave Tony a cool stare. Anyone else would be perplexed by this order, but she was not. She was one of only two people who knew that Tony was Iron Man, and she was more than used to him using her to get information on villains. Heroes were something new, but she could certainly provide information on that. She turned to leave. Tony would get his contact information, but it would come at a price. Everything always did.

Cap picked his shield up from the ground and rounded on the thug he'd stopped. Sure, he had gadgets that gave him great powers of illusion, but he was still a thug. Grabbing him by the collar, he was prepared to give the ultimatum when the whine of jet engines burst into his thoughts. Dropping the thug, he turned to see Iron Man descending like a mechanical god to the streets.

"You never called me."

"I had bigger things to do than chase after a pair of super-powered thugs."

"And yet, I find you shaking down a super-powered thug. How ironic."

"Surely you didn't find me solely to comment on my crime-fighting technique."

"Not at all. We have a problem. Beetle and Goliath are indeed part of something larger. I've identified most of their coconspirators, and they're a pretty fearsome group of people. More than I can handle."

"So, you came to ask me for help?"

"Not just you. I've found four other people who may or may not be willing to help us stop these guys. I go talk to two of them; you talk to the other two. We meet on top of the Baxter Building in a week."

"Not interested."

"Come on. I can make it well worth your while-"

"No."

"That's not the Captain America I remember."

"That Captain America was a lie propagated by the American government. I've always hated working with others."

"So, you only worked with Bucky and the Invaders because you had to? That's not how my dad remembered it."

"Your . . . your dad?"

"Yes. He was one of the Marines that worked with you during the war. He told me all about you. You were my hero, and you still are. Now, I'm not asking you to work with these people forever. Just until we beat Beetle and his cohorts."

Cap thought about it. Truth be told, he did miss working with a team. And, it would give him a chance to fight something other than two-bit thugs with random mutations, or stolen technology.

"So, which two do I start with?"

Cap pulled the jeep up the driveway of a very large house. The Bartons were, according to Iron Man, a rich family. And, also according to Iron Man, one particular member of the most recent generation of Bartons was their man. Turning off the jeep, he got out and walked up to the door. He was about to knock when he heard, faintly, a gunshot from behind the house.

Fearing the worst, Cap ran around the house. When he rounded the corner, he found himself looking at a small firing range. Standing at one end was a young man with a brown crew cut, holding a very large pistol with both hands. At the other end was a target with several holes clustered around the center. _Impressive_. This one was an excellent marksman, better than any Cap had seen before. Hopefully, he'd be willing to help.

"Clint Barton? Could I have a moment of your time?"

To his credit, Clint didn't even flinch. Instead, he lowered the pistol, putting the safety on as he did so. Taking off the protective eye shield and earpieces, he walked out of the firing range and over to Cap.

"Can I interest you in a drink?"

Cap decided to accept, and the two of them went into the house. As Clint led Cap through the hallways, Cap decided to lay out his proposal.

"Mr. Barton-"

"Please, call me Clint. Mr. Barton is my father. And my grandfather. But not me, not yet."

"Ok, Clint, then. My name is Ste – Captain America. I've come to you because there is a terrorist threat to this country. I know that you were a member of several successful anti-terrorist units in the past, and I was hoping you'd help us deal with them."

"Us? Who's us?"

"At the moment, myself and Iron Man. We're both looking for additional help, and we thought-"

"Do I get to wear a costume?"

"What?"

"You wear a costume. Iron Man wears a battle suit. I assume these terrorists you're going to be fighting will wear costumes. So, do I get to wear a costume?"

"If you want to, yes. But, there is some more information-"

"Don't need to hear it. I've always wanted to be a superhero. When do I start?"

Tony had confidence that Hank Pym would help him with this. He knew Hank from way back, when they were in college together. Back when Tony had built his first armor suit, and Hank was struggling to prove the theoretical physics he always talked about. Now that Hank had perfected his "Pym Particles", thanks in part to a huge research grant from Tony, it was almost a guarantee that Hank would join forces with him. At least, if they could convince his wife to let him.

The lab Hank used was situated just below the apartment building he and his wife had purchased a few years ago. A select few were allowed to rent from them, as long as they conformed to the rules laid down for their own protection. Tony knew all of these rules well; one of his best scientists lived here, and had complained about those same rules when he first got the apartment.

"Tony! What are you doing here, you old dog?"

Tony shook Hank's hand, and then pulled him into a back-slapping embrace that the other returned with gusto. That was the strength of their friendship; no matter what they did for or to one another, they remained casual around each other. No formalities. Tony broke the embrace first, only to find himself looking at a beautiful, although altogether critical-seeming, woman. Hank pulled himself away from Tony to make introductions.

"Tony, you know my wife Janet, right? Of course you do, you were my best man. Anyway, what brings you here? Surely not another project meant to defy the known laws of physics?"

"Since when have you ever cared about the laws of physics?"

"Oh, _touché_, Tony. But seriously, what brings you here?"

"Can we talk about it in private? It's kind of sensitive."

"Well . . . "

Janet glared at Hank, and he made up his mind immediately.

"Janet can hear anything that you want to talk to me about. She knows everything, anyway. Well, everything about me."

"Very well. Shall we go somewhere that the three of us can go unobserved?"

"Right this way."

Hank took Tony downstairs, through his lab. Tony chuckled to himself as they walked through. It was just as disorganized as any other place Hank had worked or lived in during college. Tony would have been hard-pressed to find anything in it, but he would be damned if Hank lost anything in the clutter. At the end of the lab was a door, which Hank opened to let both Tony and Janet through, before he came in and closed it. They were now in a comfortable office. Both Pyms say down, and Tony found a chair in which to place himself.

"Hank, I need Yellowjacket. Iron Man has encountered some pretty unique terrorists, and he needs help to deal with them. Can you deliver?"

"Tony, Tony, you can't just ask a man to leave his research, especially when the reason might get him killed. I mean, who else is working with Iron Man on this?"

"Captain America, for sure. My internal intelligence officer, for sure. Possibly a former FBI agent with a history in antiterrorism units, and a member of the X-Men. That's all I can promise right now."

Hank pondered this for quite some time, time enough to make Tony think that it was a mistake to come to him. After all, the man had a wife to look after now. He could hardly be asked to-

"We agree."

It was Janet who said this, and that confused Tony.

"We? But I was only asking for Yellowja-"

"You can have Yellowjacket, but you're also getting Wasp. You think I'm going to let my husband put his life on the line without some backup I can trust?"

"But, you can't – you'll get – the Pym Particles-"

"Work for me just as well as they work for him. So, will you take both of them, or will you go with neither of us?"

Bright lights, flashing everywhere. People chuckling, eyes shiftily glancing around to make sure that no one there could tell who their owners were. Money being passed around from man to scantily clad woman. In short, a strip club. Cap was uneasy in these surroundings, especially without his shield or costume. Clint, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. Turning his head away from the woman currently on stage, he shouted over the music to Cap.

"So, who are we looking for? The one up there with the whip?"

"No, Iron Man said that we'd be able to spot her immediately. Look for anyone distinc-"

His words trailed off at that point, because he found himself staring at a very strange woman. Her entire body was covered in fur. Orange fur, with stripes of black radiating from her back. Her ears emerged from a wild mop of red hair, pointed and feline. Snaking from the base of her spine was a tail, twisting and writhing to the music. Her eyes were gold, with black slits bisecting them. She was, to use Tony's word, _distinctive_. Cap was speechless. Clint fished out his wallet, pulled out a bill, and slipped in into the cat-woman's thong. Standing up, he said something that was, to Cap, drowned out by the music. Her eyes lit up, and the feline stripper practically skipped away. As she left, Clint grabbed Cap by the arm and led him away.

"I have to ask, what did you do?"

"Gave her a hundred, told her to meet me at my apartment if she wanted to see some more like it. Give her a few hours to finish her shift, and then we'll see her again. Now, c'mon. It takes a while to get to my apartment."

Clint flexed his arm, getting used to the feel of the costume moving over his skin. He had to be used to it, or else it might throw off his aim, mess with his reflexes. And that would be very bad. He drew the gun he had holstered on his right hip. _Not bad, but we can do better._ He practiced it a few times, and was just putting it back when their contact arrived.

To her credit, she didn't even flinch when she saw the rather large guns on Clint's hips. Nor did she do anything about the bow slung on his back. Of course, that might have more to do with the fact that she was staring at his costume. Matters were not helped when Cap came out in the red, white and blue. She groaned and shook her head.

"All right, let's get a few things clear. Yes, I am a mutant. Yes, I went to Xavier's. Yes, I was a member of the X-Men. Yes, I slept with that guy from Alpha Flight. No, I don't have a superhero fetish. And no amount of money will convince me that I do. Good night."

And at that moment, Clint did one of the most stupid things he'd ever done in his life. He grabbed the mutant by the arm.

"Now, wait just a-"

Before he could finish his sentence, she had popped claws out of her fingertips and had slashed him across the face. While he was still in the state of stunned disbelief, she threw her momentum into a leaping kick that knocked him across the room. By the time the pain registered, she was at the door, only to find it being blocked by Cap. Hissing, she slashed at his face twice. Cap, with his skin capable of repelling most physical damage, didn't even flinch as her claws glided across his mouth and chin. The mutant noticed this, and immediately fell to her knees in front of him.

"Oh, please don't kill me! I'm sorry I cut up your friend, I'll pay for his medical bills, I'll do whatever, just don't-"

"We're not here to kill you, or to have sex with you. We're here to ask for your help."

This got the cat-woman's attention. She stood up, walking over to one of the chairs so she could sit down. Clint listened to Cap's speech while he found something to mop the blood off his face.

"Now, miss . . . what's your name?"

"Tigra. That's all I answer to."

"All right, Tigra, then. The thing is, I need your help. Myself and Cl-Hawkeye there are dealing with a group of superhuman terrorists, and we were wondering if you could help us with this little problem. We came to you because you have experience-"

"Find some other mutant. I'm not interested."

"But, we need-"

"There's a whole class of X-Men you could recruit from. Find the Cuckoos, or Colossus. I'm sure they'll be more than willing to help. I like where my life is right now."

"Really? You prefer dancing for money-"

"Superheroics don't pay the bills. Dancing does."

Clint came out of the bathroom. He patted Cap on the shoulder.

"Let me do this. Tigra, what if I were to tell you that Iron Man was involved in this? He works for Tony Stark, and I'm sure that Stark would pay handsomely for any help you give."

"Really. I want to hear this from Stark himself."

"It's kind of late-"

"Then wake him. I'm not agreeing to this without a concrete offer."

Cap sighed, pulled out his comm unit, and called for Iron Man.

Tigra shivered. Sure, it had _seemed_ like a good idea to wear that skimpy little costume she'd used for her week of street-level crimefighting, but now, in the cold night air, she was having second thoughts. She was about to ask if she could leave when the second half of the team arrived.

Her attention was immediately drawn to the redhead. Dressed in skintight black leather, she was a knockout. Strapped to her hips were a pair of very large pistols, and a metal backpack was attached to her shoulders. The insignia on her belt was a red hourglass.

The next one she noticed was the man in yellow. He was tall, but looked a little worn. His cowl, gloves and boots were black, and so were the stripes that ran across his chest. He didn't have an insignia, and neither did the woman next to him. She was shorter than the redhead, and was wearing dark blue streaked with gold. She also reeked of hostility, which Tigra suspected was directed at herself. When one was a mutant, one got used to it in a hurry.

Tigra took in all of this in the time it took for Iron Man to land. While she was still trying to figure out what the man and second woman did, Captain America rushed over to confront Iron Man.

"You said two each. But you brought three."

"Couldn't be helped. I couldn't get him without getting her. Unless you want to try?"

"Wouldn't work. She might know about Spitfire. So, what do you suggest we do with her?"

"I say we give her a try. She might surprise us."

Cap walked back to his point in the rough circle the seven of them had formed into. He nodded to Iron Man, who began a little speech.

"Fellow heroes, heroines, I want to thank you for coming. Now, there is a reason for myself and Cap here bringing you together, but first, why don't we go around and introduce ourselves? You, why don't you start?"

The man in yellow and black stepped forward.

"I am Yellowjacket. I possess the ability to grow, with the aid of some technology of my own invention. I am also an accomplished scientist in many fields."

Clint stepped forward.

"My name is Hawkeye. I'm an expert marksman, and have a lot of experience with counterterrorism tactics."

The redhead volunteered her information.

"I am the Black Widow. I am the best the Soviet intelligence division had to offer. I am possessed of excellent abilities with a firearm, and several technologically advanced weapons."

Tigra stepped up.

"I'm Tigra. I'm a mutant with all the abilities of a tiger, and the intelligence of a human. Plus, I've got some martial arts experience, in case it ever comes to that."

The other woman snorted derisively, and then walked out of her place.

"I call myself the Wasp. I can shrink and fly, thanks to some of the technologies that power Yellowjacket. I'm also an accomplished psychiatrist, and have even been known to help other heroes during crises in their life."

"Hey, I remember you! You came to the Institute after Mindee Cuckoo had a breakdown! What was the name again . . . I want to say Jessica, is that right?"

Wasp sneered at Tigra. Tigra wasn't blind, and caught on immediately.

"What, you think that just because I'm a mutant, that makes me stupid, or inferior? Well, have I got news for you, you stuck-up bi-"

Cap and Black Widow both put themselves in Tigra's way before she could walk over and start fighting Wasp. Iron Man bowed his head. He'd known that Wasp's anti-mutant prejudices would eventually run up against a mutant who wasn't completely beaten down by society. _But did it have to be the mutant that was going to help me stop Beetle and his group?_ He had to do something, and fast.

"Everyone, STOP!"

Amplified as it was by his armor, Iron Man's voice echoed over the rooftops, and everyone on his was clutching their ears. _That ought to get their attention_. _Now, what do I say to get them to not kill each other?_ Surprisingly, it was Cap who gave a speech.

"People, please. We didn't come here to fight each other. We came here because we are heroes. Right now, a group of super-terrorists are preparing to wreak havoc in New York. Sure, you could say 'That's not my problem; there are plenty of other heroes here in New York.' But they don't know about this threat. No one but us knows about this. So, we can work together, or we can give up ands let them win. I for one don't want to see that happen. What about you?"

Wasp looked to be in serious thought, as did Tigra. Black Widow seemed to be reassessing Cap, while Clint busied himself with his weapons so no one could see how close to tears he had been brought by Cap's speech. Yellowjacket seemed uncomprehending, but Tony knew that this was his friend's "thoughtful face", as he put it. Cap, he noticed, looked a bit surprised at himself, as though he hadn't known that he could speak like that.

And that was when it all went to Hell.

"Lookie here. Stark's errand boy brought a few more targets with him."

Everyone turned at once to see Beetle hovering up and to the east. He appeared to be alone, but both Iron Man and Cap knew that he was but a button's push away from summoning help. However, he didn't seem to be in a threatening mood.

"Man, this is great. You two broke down and got help. Not like it's going to mean much. We're all ready to go, and you don't even know what we're planning. Pathetic."

"So, what are you planning? If you're as ready as you say you are, it won't matter if we know your plan."

Beetle laughed raucously.

"You think I'm actually going to fall for that? You're more pathetic than I thought. You'll just have to wait and find out. So long, suckers!"

With that, Beetle activated his teleporter, and was gone before anyone could react. Iron Man threw up his hands in disgust.

"Great, just great! We still don't know what he's planning, and we don't even know where he went! What the hell are we going to do now? And where the hell is W-?"

All of a sudden, Tony realized that he could find out exactly where Beetle and his cronies were. Unable to constrain himself, he let out a celebratory whoop. Everyone else stared at him, and he decided to let them in on what he had realized.

"It's Wasp. She must have shrunk down and hitched a ride on Beetle when he teleported. All we have to do is home in on the comm signal, and we've got them!"

Wasp flitted around over the heads of Beetle and his group, small enough to be invisible to them. She'd not really thought through what she would do once Beetle arrived at his lair, but she knew she couldn't just stand around and watch them put whatever scheme it was that they'd hatched. _As soon as I figure out what they're doing_, she thought. As far as she could tell, the six of them were clustered around some kind of machine, but she couldn't figure out what the machine was for, or what was keeping them from using it. And then He stepped out.

He wore a purple mask. In fact, most of His costume was purple. Holstered on His left hip was some kind of gun, which likely shot more than bullets. Fur from some indeterminate animal lined the shoulders of His costume. He was Baron Zemo, super-genius and criminal mastermind. She remembered him because he used to work with Hank on a certain project, before he had become a criminal. It had something to do with gamma-based mind alteration. Before she could remember the success/failure ratios of the experiment, or any of the other details, Zemo began to speak.

"Fellows, it is on this monumentous day that we begin our implementation of our New World Order. With the activation of this device, all people in New York will have no choice but to follow us. In fact, they will have no choice in anything they do. We will rule New York, and from their we will use the superhuman population to launch our attack on the United States. And once we control the United States, we will be able to take the rest of the world. In at most a year, we will own this planet, and every pathetic life-form that walks the face of it. Now, are you with me?"

The answer was a resounding bellow from the six superhumans below. Wasp snorted. _And what they don't know is that, to Zemo, they're just as disposable as anyone they take over with the device. By the end of that year, I wouldn't be surprised to see Zemo standing alone. Now, how to stop them?_ Before she could figure out a way for one woman to take out seven villains, the wall and part of the roof collapsed. Standing there were Iron Man, Hank and the rest of their ragtag little group. To his credi6t, Zemo didn't hesitate.

"Take them, now!"

Black Widow wasted no time in rushing what she perceived to be the biggest threat she could fight. She immediately ruled out Beetle and Goliath; the former was too powerful in his armor, and the latter was simply too big for her to fight. Fenris and Zemo were too far for her to get to them. This left Moonstone, Screaming Mimi and Fixer. Before she could decide, Hawkeye fired on Fixer, and Wasp dropped onto Screaming Mimi. Thus robbed of her choice, Black Widow pulled out her gun and went for Moonstone.

Moonstone wasn't even wearing a costume, just a pair of khakis and a shirt. She probably wasn't even wearing any armor. But then, she didn't need any of that; the crystal orbiting around her body provided her with a vast array of superpowers. The crystal was the top priority; without that, Moonstone was just a normal human. She started firing on it. By the time the first bullet reached the path the crystal was orbiting on, however, it started to speed up and move erratically. She couldn't even capitalize on the shots that missed; Moonstone had used the crystal to make herself insubstantial.

Black Widow holstered her weapon; no sense in wasting the ammunition. With a quick command, she deployed the weapons in her backpack. Four thin mechanical arms launched out of the rounded corners, sprouting claw-like fingers. The arms weren't nearly as strong as, say, Iron Man's armor, but they could pack a punch, and they would give here a better chance at grabbing the crystal. Walking forward, she commanded the arms to start grabbing.

Tigra flipped around Fenris' swing, kicking him in the chin as she did so. He was actually kind of a pushover; she was just to fast and acrobatic for him to hit. Landing from her flip, she popped her claws and slashed him across the back, but he was moving away from her. Her claws only grazed him. It must have still hurt, judging by how foul his language was after she hit, but it didn't do nearly as much damage as she would have liked.

He turned around, grabbing the hilt with both hands, and then split his sword into two separate blades. He began spinning them in complicated figure-eights in front of himself, and Tigra found herself backing up. She wasn't quite fast enough, and her left arm received a cut from elbow to wrist. Like her shot to his back, it was a pretty shallow wound, but it still hurt like hell. _Okay, maybe I underestimated him a little._ He stopped for a second, and started chuckling.

"I'm going to cut you apart, you little freak. I'll cut you up like the monster you are, and no one will ever miss you. Little freak cu-"

Before he could get the last word out, Tigra dove through his legs, slashing his hamstrings as she went by. Fenris dropped to his knees with a howl of pain, and she kicked him in the head as he went down.

"No one calls me a freak, do you hear me? No one."

Hawkeye rolled around the support pillar just in time to avoid one of Fixer's shrapnel bombs. He'd lost his guns to a magnetic field Fixer had unleashed earlier in the fight, and now had to rely solely on his bow and arrows. Drawing back the bowstring, he rolled back out from the pillar and released. The arrow flew true, sticking straight into Fixer's cybernetic left eye. Fixer roared and shot forward, unleashing a storm of lightning from his mechanical fingertips. Hawkeye ran on a zigzag course to avoid Fixer's weapons. _You know, maybe I was wrong about superheroics. Maybe, just maybe, they're more work than I thought._

Yellowjacket shrank slightly, just enough to make Goliath overshoot with his punch, and then grew back to Goliath's size as he threw a right cross. His punch rocked Goliath, setting him back on his heels. Yellowjacket made to follow up on his punch, but Iron Man rocketed into his punch's vector, chasing Beetle, and Hank had to pull his punch in order to keep from pasting his friend. Goliath, however, had no such compunctions, and head-butted Hank, rocking him backwards. As he staggered, his foot came down on something hard, crushing it. Picking his foot up, he saw that he'd smashed some sort of computer. Putting it out of his head, he charged at Goliath.

Cap chased Zemo into the basement of the warehouse. Down there, it was a maze, probably set up like that on purpose. Cap was sure that Zemo had some sort of secret escape tunnel in there, one that only he knew about. Cap knew this, because he'd fought Zemo before. Zemo had been, for the early part of the war, his archenemy. But, he'd died on the battlefields of Europe in 1943. Hadn't he? Was it possible that he'd found a way to cheat death, like Cap had? Cap needed answers, and only Zemo could answer his questions.

Coming around a corner, Cap saw Zemo running down a hallway. With all his strength, Cap hurled his shield at Zemo. It struck him perfectly in the knees, dropping him to the ground without a hitch. Running up, Cap put his foot on Zemo's back, keeping him from getting up.

"Now, it's time for you to answer some questions. Who are you?"

"I am Baron Zemo, you arrogant fool. Get off me, this instant!"

"I don't think so. Now, how did you survive the Allies assault on your fortress in 1943?"

Zemo started laughing at this question.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you? Well, I think not. You'll just have to figure that out yourself. If I give you the free will to think about it, that is!"

As he shouted this last, Zemo pressed a button on his gauntlet. He waited a minute, and then noticed that nothing had changed. Cap still had his foot on Zemo's back, and the sounds of battle continued unabated from above. Zemo cursed.

"You may have stopped my plans this time, but I assure you, you will not capture me! We will meet in Hell, Captain America!"

With that, he pressed another button on the same gauntlet, and disappeared. Cap stumbled forward. The fight seemed to have stopped, judging by the lack of noise from upstairs. He shook his head. He wouldn't call this a victory, but it sure wasn't a failure either.

A month had passed. The papers had trumpeted from the rooftops the success of "Iron Man's superteam", and they had received awards of all kinds. But, they were missing something. Most of them had gone back to their normal lives, but Tony Stark had racked his brain to find a way to keep the team together. When he found what he thought would be a feasible solution, he sent messages to the six.

They met at an expensive house in a less populated part of the city. Tony had insisted that they show up in civilian clothes, and they had complied. When all seven of them were there, Tony put his proposal on the table.

"We stay together as a superteam. I'm willing to pay a reasonable salary to keep you guys on retainer. We use this house as a base; you can live here if you like, or you can keep things here for when you wish to stay. Any questions?"

Tigra raised her hand.

"We're not going to have some really lame team name, are we?"

"I've been thinking about it for most of this month, and I think we should call ourselves . . . the Avengers. Anyone oppose?"

No one did. Without saying another word, the newly christened Avengers began setting up. It would take time, but everyone had high hopes that this could work. After all, they'd done it once before. What could possibly stop them from doing it again?


End file.
